Knights of Cydonia
by AJarOfDirt
Summary: In a time after Voldemort, the Muggle government saw it fit to exterminate wizards as part of a fascist regime of the new Prime Minister. Harry, Ron and Hermione must make a stand in this war with their new ally - a man in a Guy Fawkes mask. *HP/V xover*
1. Prologue: England Prevails

"Leader, I have information which I think will interest you."

"What is it, Mr Almond?" his voice was void of emotion and only a small part of it perked in interest to what his messenger had said.

"Fingermen have apprehended several individuals suspected to be involved in the bombings surrounding the central bank, sir. They have been detained and questioned, and I think we've made some promising breakthrough."

"Which would be…?"

"Sir, these men attribute the bombings to an unnatural source, a cause that even I couldn't fathom before we found proof. One of the apprehended men was talking about men using wands and performing magic of some sort…"

"Do not make crude jokes with me, Mr Almond, my time is precious…"

"But sir, I'm _not_. There _are_ men who use wands to perform magic. Men _and_ women. Wizards and witches."

"Is this some kind of a nasty trick you wish to pull on your Prime Minister, Mr Almond?" he had gotten a bit angry now. "Let me make myself clear. I am _not_ to be made a fool of by announcing to London that the cause of the bank bombings has anything to do with the unfounded or the unproven. Neither will you have Prothero spout fairytale nonsense about witches and wizards blasting our banks open. He _has_ to remain credible."

"Sir, with all due respect, the supposed thieves didn't take any money. Nothing was missing from the bank the day it was bombed. They seemed to just want to blast our money haven for the fun of it, if you know what I mean. A little target practice. We found no explosives at the site, nor anything that could even suggest a blast could have occurred. It was like the bank detonated on its own. And I _do_ have proof that wizards and witches exist, Leader. Not only has the former Prime Minister released a signed statement for you," a manila folder was passed over to the man, "but we've beaten it out of these folks to show us how they do it – a couple of forty-five-year-old ninnies, really, so it was easy to get it out of them. It's incredible, honestly. Just a flick of a polished stick and you'll have salted pork and fried apple for supper right before your eyes."

The man read the contents of the folder silently for a few moments. He then got up from his seat and began pacing before a long line of computers. He wasn't seated at a desk originally, but at a machine – a very big machine that covered the circumference of the circular room. It was dark, except for the artificial lighting that came from the high ceiling and the light blue glow of the computer screens. There were no windows, only a singular door, which was where Mr Almond now stood.

"Wizards and witches…" the man seemed to give it a thought. "Well, we mustn't take any chances with them, must we? Add them to the list of undesirables. Any witch or wizard so much so runs free on the streets shall be arrested. These people – if you could even call them people in the first place – are a huge threat to our administration, understand? They cannot roam the streets, is that clear? Put more Fingermen out at night, that's probably when these atrocities will come out of their little rabbit holes to perform their little magic tricks and when they do… they'll be arrested and _detained_. Question them; find the source of their power. This…_breed_ may be detrimental, but they are powerful nonetheless. After you have garnered enough information, have them executed. There is no need to have sympathy for the unnatural."

"Understood, sir.

"Your information has been valuable today, Mr Almond. That will be all. England prevails."

"England prevails, sir. Thank you."

* * *

**A/N:** This is just a prologue! That's why it's so short =) A little Harry Potter/V for Vendetta crossover here. Just a heads up; it'll combine several sources - the movie-version of V, the graphic novel...you know, all the different sources I've ever viewed - to get one coherent story. So if you have any questions, feel free to raise them, although I hope it'll be straightforward from the start. Thanks for reading!

Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and V for Vendetta belongs to Alan Moore.


	2. I: Virgin Victims

Harry Potter stirred and flipped over like a trout on his bed. The lovely aroma of Mrs Weasley's unbeatable cooking had somehow wafted into his room – which was Fred's and George's old room in actuality. He was once again at the Burrow, paying the Weasleys a visit. After having spent time with them during the summers of the past several years ever since he was twelve, Harry felt obliged to return to see this amiable family – not that he complained about it. Even though Ron's family had protested and said they would go over to Number 12, Grimmauld Place to see _him_ instead, he had always fought down their argument. Harry was incredibly fond of the Burrow. He simply liked how it smelt and how it felt and even how it looked. That was not something he could say about his own home in the heart of London. The Weasleys had a huge field behind their abode, perfect for outdoor activities, while Grimmauld Place simply felt old, worn and cramped, even after Kreacher had cleaned it out thousands of times. Harry suspected that it wasn't the way it _looked_ that made him think that way, it was just the atmosphere. Also, Harry knew of the second advantage of coming to the Burrow that summer; he would get to see Ginny, whom he'd missed dearly while he was all the way in London.

Hermione had also joined Harry in visiting the Weasleys that summer. From what Harry had learnt, she was very determined to go back to Hogwarts to finish her N.E.W.T.s and had taken it in her stride to buy her textbooks early so she could be well-equipped when she returned to school, with knowledge already soaked in her brain, waiting to be squeezed out all over her essays. However, spending time with or around Ron had greatly hindered her progress in reading her books in advanced, much to Harry's amusement. He was sincerely glad that his two best friends were together, though. Their relationship didn't even cause any rifts. It wasn't as though anything had _changed_ between the three of them. Well, over the course of autumn 1997 to spring 1998, their friendship had certainly _evolved_ so many times that it'd turned into something even more special than before, but they were all essentially still the eleven-year-olds who met on the train to Hogwarts September the first, 1991.

As Harry got out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash up, he mused of what he would read in the _Daily Prophet_ that morning. He did this every day when his head was still muddled up, trying to awake from slumber. _Probably more rubbish about my 'superman status',_ he thought with annoyance. The Daily Prophet had stopped publishing defaming stories about Harry, but had instead taken to printing ones about what a big conqueror he was. Even though this wasn't necessarily untrue, he hated it nonetheless. He couldn't help but feel pessimistic and self-conscious. Harry knew that he was and always would be thought of as a hero; a hero that was considered untouchable, that seemingly could not be killed and that apparently could not be taken down by anything. His survival and vigilance in the long battle against the Dark Lord Voldemort and ultimately, the latter's bitter defeat, stapled the term "saviour" on his forehead. What nobody knew was that the label stung worse than his lightning-shaped scar ever did.

_Can't they just understand that in the end, I'm just a boy? Or rather, a man just out of boyhood?_ Harry thought as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror while he brushed his teeth. He rinsed and spat, then lifted the bit of jet-black hair that flopped over his eyes to examine the scar on his forehead. It hadn't hurt since Voldemort's downfall. Still, looking at it brought back too many painful memories.

The rest of the wizarding world had basically made a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn after Voldemort's downfall. Magical folk were free from the wrath of the Dark Lord and everyone had no sooner hoped for a "happily ever after" to end the tale of shadows.

_At least they're happy,_ Harry cogitated. _And safe._

He finished his morning bathroom routine and trudged down the stairs towards the kitchen, where the divine whiff of Mrs Weasley's cheese omelettes and ham wraps tickled his senses. His stomach growled in response and he found himself smiling a bit as he entered the dining area.

Ron and Hermione were already at the table, and they greeted Harry with smiles and waves. Ginny was helping her mother to prepare breakfast, but turned around to say a quick 'hi'. Mrs Weasley turned from the stove as well and welcomed him with an immense hug and her usual question of what he would like to eat. Mr Weasley had already left for work. Harry sat himself down across from Ron and immediately noticed tension in their midst. It was very subtle, but it was still there and it bothered him that they were all trying to keep things from him again.

"All right, what's going on?" he asked irritably after a short staring contest with his best friends, reaching for a baguette in the basket that sat in the middle of the scrubbed wooden table.

"Whatever do you mean, Harry dear?" Mrs Weasley responded, piling about four eggs onto his plate. "You still look a bit peaky, so eat up. There's more if you want seconds."

"I'm all right Mrs Weasley, thanks, but what I meant was, what are you guys hiding from me again?" Harry looked pointedly at Ron and Hermione. "Who wants to fill me in on that?"

"Harry…" Hermione started, stealing a glance at Ron for a moment. "Oh, Harry, there are some people going around imitating Voldemort and the Death Eaters now that he's gone. Remember the fire last Monday? And the broken bridge two days after that? Yesterday, the Muggle government arrested three wizards for supposedly blowing up a bank in central London – right near Grimmauld Place if I'm not mistaken. I think they really did it though, even though the Muggles are trying to cover it up, but they're nowhere to be found, so it can't be proved. At least, not on our side. Apparently, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement traced their usage of magic in the presence of Muggles. However, they are still missing. Merlin knows where they're being detained at the moment."

Harry's face was scrunched up in an unpleasant manner and he looked like he was ready to explode. He continued to keep his cool as Ginny went up behind him and rubbed his back, hoping to calm him down. Something else caught his attention though.

"Why would they be detained? If we can't prove they blew up the bank, who's to say the Muggles can? They should've been let out by now," he said, taking a large bite of breakfast.

"Well…" Hermione hedged again. This time, she neither looked at Ron for approval, nor did she look at all composed anymore. "This is just a hunch, but I think that whoever captured these wizards don't want them out on the streets. And I think they _did_ show Muggles their magic; they showed those who arrested them what they could do. I don't know what's worth risking your arse with the Ministry of Magic these days, now that Kingsley's in charge, but they did it anyway."

"Maybe they got frightened," Ron helped, his mouth full of bacon. "Like maybe they were threatened or something."

"Most wizards who're endangered by Muggles don't really care, remember?" Hermione argued. "We have things like Memory Charms and all sorts of spells to make Muggles forget they've ever met us or saw magic. Or how about Wendelin the Weird? She loved getting caught by Muggles, but knew how to escape coercion."

"How old were those blokes who got arrested then?"

"Around forty-five, sources say."

"That's enough to be scared easily," Harry's voice lowered, hoping Mrs Weasley wouldn't hear them. If she did, she didn't make any sign that she had been eavesdropping. "Hand me that paper please, I want to read it. Thanks."

Everyone was silent for a few moments while Harry read the front page of the _Prophet_. Mrs Weasley bustled outside to feed the chickens and Ginny was eating slowly and quietly next to Harry. Ron and Hermione watched him with bated breath.

"What's all this about a new Muggle Prime Minister, Hermione? I've been in Grimmauld and here my whole summer and haven't really gotten a chance to step out into the Muggle world."

"But Grimmauld's right in the hub of London, Harry. How come you haven't been out?"

"I took the Floo Network everywhere. To work, here, back, you know. There's even a Floo line connected to the Leaky Cauldron remember? The only place I can't take the Floo to is Platform 9¾, which I haven't been to at all anyway."

"Oh, right. Well, I spent a bit of time with Mum and Dad recently – not long, I only dropped in a few days before coming here – and they were telling me about how an entire new political party called Norsefire's taken over England," Hermione's voice had gone icy at the mention of 'Norsefire'. "It's terrible. Do you know of the nuclear war, Harry?" when he shook his head in response, she continued. "Norsefire was the party that picked everybody up after it. Russia and Poland were threatened to be bombed and for a time, Britain was almost a target. Luckily for us, we weren't hit, but there was still pandemonium and hysteria going around because of the effects nuclear war on _other_ countries caused _us_. We lacked food and everybody was essentially in poverty. I don't think the magical world was affected by this, though, what with all our enchantments and things like that. Well, Norsefire calmed everybody down with solutions, however…"

Hermione took a deep breath, seemingly steadying herself before she went on, "However, it came at a price. If you walked out on the Muggle streets these days, all you see are white people. White, Christian people. You want to know why? Anybody else who was considered 'inferior' or 'dangerous' was shipped off. My guess? They were exterminated. Gosh, this reminds me of the history textbooks I read a few years ago… Hitler…"

"Sounds like a toilet cleaner or something out of a Lockhart book," Ron mumbled.

"No, you nitwit. Hitler was a very powerful albeit dangerous character in Muggle history. He used the same form of horror to attain power – by exterminating 'impure' races like Jews, blacks, Pakistanis. He even got rid of homosexuals, bisexuals and all of the sort. He had a friend with him, Mussolini-"

"Now that sounds like pasta!" Ron exclaimed.

"He's _Italian_. Goodness, Ronald, don't you have any diplomacy at all? But anyway, Mussolini was a fascist. Norsefire's exactly the same way. I've seen it on their posters. '_Strength Through Purity, Purity Through Faith._' That's their motto. A load of bullshit is what I read. Sounds more like something a Malfoy would spout. And the new Prime Minister, Adam Susan, he's an open fascist too, so it's really as no-brainer."

"All Adam Susan sounds like to me is a man with a girly name."

"Ron! Will you please be serious?!"

"I am! I-"

"Guys! Don't argue!" Harry stood up abruptly to get their attention. He sat down again when everybody quieted down. "Hermione, don't you think this Susan man bears a striking resemblance to somebody we _thought_ we got rid off?"

His voice was shaking and on the edge, and for the first time in a long while, he felt scared.

"I know, Harry," Hermione whispered, her eyes dark. "I have a feeling he knows magic exists now. If his policemen captured some of our kind – our 'race' as they would probably say – then he's probably already seen the magic happen. Even the previous Muggle Prime Minister knew about us! Fudge told him, so that he would know the true cause of the disasters and the dark clouds. There's a large chance Adam Susan knows about us, Harry. If he does, I'm not sure he wants us to stay."

"What does that mean, 'Mione?" Ginny spoke up. She had been so quiet that even Harry had forgotten that she was there. Her voice was unsteady too, as though she knew what was to come.

"I think looking at his background and political views is enough to deduce that Adam Susan fears threat. He might think wizards and witches are _huge_ threats. As far as we know right now, he has no idea of giants, Veela or any other form of magical being, but once he does, you can bet the Burrow that he'll want them all…" Hermione's eyes were now brimming with tears, "…dead."

"What?!" Ron jumped from his seat. The expression on his face could only be described as purely shocked.

"Haven't you been listening to anything I've told you, Ronald?" Hermione shrieked, fully in tears now. "This man, this Adam Susan, he wants our heads! He wants all power, and that means he wants us dead!"

"Merlin's beard, what's going on in here?" Mrs Weasley was leaning against the back door frame, glaring at the young adults. "What are you children up to?"

"Mum, we're not children!" Ron shouted.

"Well you sure behave like a bunch of them!" Mrs Weasley scolded. "Now get on with the dishes and stop arguing about… whatever you're arguing about."

After she made sure they were all at the sink cleaning up, Mrs Weasley went back outside, this time towards the garden. Beautiful summer days like the one they were experiencing were hard to come by these days.

"She knows bloody well what we're talking about. I've seen her huddled with Dad in a corner talking about some new Muggle government. Never took it seriously till today, honestly," Ron murmured to Harry when his mother had finally disappeared behind the hedge. He suddenly looked over Harry's head with a squint. "What the- is that Pig, Harry? I can't really tell, it keeps jetting around in uneven lines."

Harry turned to the direction Ron was looking in. True enough, the whizzing little owl called Pigwidgeon was flying in a mess of spins and circles, heading towards the Burrow. It missed the entrance, instead slamming into glass sliding door.

"He's worse than Errol ever was," Ron grumbled, walking over and picking up his hyperactive owl and struggled to get the post from it. "Hold still, Pig!"

He finally detached the letters from Pigwidgeon's tiny legs, letting the owl fly back to his room for a drink of water.

"Oh, you have a letter from your parents, 'Mione," he said, handing it to her before looking through the rest of the post. "Argh, Mum's got one from Muriel again, she won't like that. The last time Auntie Muriel sent us a letter, it was just to complain about the large box Weasleys Wizard Wheezes we'd sent her and how she was old and thought we were threatening her life and stuff. Thing was, we never sent her anything at all, although she assumed the return address was ours. I'll bet it was George though…"

Ron stopped babbling when Harry tapped on his shoulder and pointed to the living area. Hermione had wandered over there and sat on one of the sofas, clutching her letter in hand. Her shoulders were trembling and Ginny had her arms around her, trying to steady them.

"'Mione?" Harry tried, slowing walking towards her and placing a hand on her shoulders. Hermione let out a loud sob as she thrust the letter into his hand to read. Ron came up from behind his best mate, reading over his shoulder.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_How are you doing this summer over at the Weasleys? I hope you are well. Sweetheart, there is no real time for pleasantries these days and I must get down to business. I must implore something of you, my darling. I must ask that you do not come back to visit us at the old address any longer. At least, not until we get out of Britain. Honey, I know you must feel upset. But I fear for your safety. I fear that once you arrive and once __they__ get you, we'll never see you again. Mum and I will be all right, we've learnt to be conservative for these people and we'll get through it. Once overseas visas are issued again, we'll be able to leave the country. Hopefully, that time will come soon as I don't think we can stand one more minute in this oppressive totalitarian country. Please try to understand the urgency of the situation, dear, and do not go on adventures. Now is not the time. Go to Hogwarts come September and remain there; it's where things are safe. I ask that you flee the country yourself once school finishes and we will be able to meet up one day. Until then, we'll keep in touch by owl._

_Much love,_

_Your father_

"I can't believe it," she whispered through sobs. "They're expecting me to stay away? My own parents don't want to see me?"

"That's not what they mean. They'd love to see you, Hermione, you know they only want the best for you," Ron mumbled, sitting next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. He let her cry into his chest. "Besides, they said they'd keep in touch by owl post!"

"How many times would we be able to converse then, Ron?" she demanded. "I don't have an owl of my own and I'll be so far away at Hogwarts for another year. I can't even keep in contact with you unless you send a letter yourself. And how many times will you be able to? You only have Pigwidgeon and he's a family owl now that Errol's gone. Harry doesn't even have Hedwig anymore…"

She stopped short when she realised what she had said. She noticed Harry stiffen at the very mention of his dear deceased snowy owl and decided not to say anymore for awhile. The four of them simply sat in silence, the only noise coming from the chirping birds outside and the wind in the trees. After awhile, Hermione announced that she would be retiring to her room to pack for September the first.

"When've you got to get back to work, Harry?" Ron asked nonchalantly, clearly not wanting to remember what'd just happened. "And I'm thinking of getting her an owl one of these days."

"That's a good idea. And September the first is when I've got to be back, same day as when Hermione leaves for Hogwarts. We still have about a week left. I'll pull some strings at the Ministry, get the morning off so we can both send her to the station. Do me a favour, mate, and don't mention the letter to her again, all right? Poor girl probably has too many things to think about."

Having said that, Harry returned to his own quarters and stayed there for the remainder of the day.

* * *

**A/N:** This story doesn't go through my beta because I wanted her to focus more on my Cedric/Hermione story and I feel bad for dumping so much work on her, so feel free to point out any mistakes I might have made. Other than that, I don't think I have much else to report on. Once again, it would be amazing of you if you could review the story! =) All feedback is very very much appreciated. Thanks!


	3. II: Vague Verdict

"Remember, Hermy, be a good girl, stay out of trouble and play nice with the other children…" Ron teased Hermione as he and Harry walked her to Platform 9¾ on September the first. He had gone without getting her the owl (thankfully, he'd made no promises in advance and she couldn't be angry at him for not buying her one), but Harry had managed to talk to Kingsley and was able to get out of work in order to send Hermione off. Ron, well, he worked at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes these days and could very well get time off as he wished, it being a family establishment.

"Psh, you're not one to talk, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione huffed playfully with a grin on her face and Harry shook his head, feeling more and more like a third wheel than before. As much as he felt it was (sometimes nauseatingly) sweet that his friends still did their friendly-bickering-slash-flirting, it didn't half make him feel uncomfortable when they did so in his presence, much less when they did it _in excess_.

_Maybe I shouldn't have come,_ he mused to himself.

"Would you like me to stay behind between Platforms 9 and 10 while you two go through the barrier and snog yourselves silly between the pillars without me watching?" he teased, earning himself a tight slap on the arm from Hermione, although she giggled as she did so.

"You know, that's a handy spell you used there, 'Mione," Ron swiftly changed the subject, his ears already glowing from the slight mention of any form of public displays of affection. "That one you used to shrink your things or expand your bag or whatever," Indeed, Hermione had managed to put all her school things, clothes as well as other necessities into a single sling bag. "And how come you didn't bring Crookshanks with you?"

"He's very fond of my parents' house. I brought him there when I went to visit. He liked it so much that he decided to stay. I'm sure my parents take good care of him…" Hermione trailed off, a bit choked up. She tried to brighten as she gave her book bag a little shake, practically causing an earthquake within it. "And this isn't even that much heavier than normal," Hermione gushed, grinning widely. "I can't believe I managed to fit all my stuff into it!"

"But you were able to fit so much junk in that little beaded bag of yours! So what's to say you can't do it with this one?" Harry reminded her, chuckling. She jokingly punched him yet again.

However, things weren't very light-hearted as they neared the platforms. Something seemed amiss. There was an abnormally big crowd of people milling around and they clearly weren't there to take the Muggle trains; both had arrived and no one from the crowd seemed to be paying attention to either. Adults seemed to be arguing with each other and between them, teenagers paced back and forth restlessly; some looked worried, others simply looked bored and annoyed.

"What's all this about?" Harry wondered out loud. His friends simply shrugged as they pushed through the throng to find somebody they knew.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!" they heard a familiar voice call out to them. They noticed Luna Lovegood running in their direction. "Something's wrong with the barrier!"

"_What?!_" all three of them exclaimed.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron asked abruptly. His sister had insisted on travelling on her own to the train station that morning due to a little argument she'd had with Mrs Weasley about independence. Ron still knew (and was even briefly reminded before he left) that it was his little responsibility to make sure she got on the train safely.

"How can there be something wrong with the barrier? What's happening?" Hermione squeaked, hyperventilating.

"Ginny's with me, Ron… and I don't know," Luna said, completely out of her characteristically calm demeanor. "It's like it's sealed itself for some reason. It won't let anybody through. Almost everybody here's tried it."

"There can't be and shouldn't be any more house-elves toying with it," Ron whispered to Harry. "You're not even in danger anymore…"

"Good Merlin," Hermione wasn't listening to them. Instead, she was fighting her way to the brick wall that constituted the barrier to Platform 9¾. She pressed her hand against it and surely enough, it felt as solid and cold as it looked. "This can't be happening!"

She continued hitting at the stone wall until Ron went over and led her away, holding her shoulders and rubbing her back. She was becoming more and more hysterical.

"'scuse me, folks, what's all the commotion here?" a few train conductors had come over, wondering why such a large group of people had gathered outside their trains and yet, nobody was going aboard. Hermione noticed that all of them had added a badge of some sort to their usually plain uniforms; a black circle with an alternating grey checkered pattern for a border, and two red horizontal lines sliced by a single vertical one. She recognised no such symbol.

A worried-looking old woman rushed forward to the man, hurriedly showing him her ticket. She had a little girl with her, no older than eleven, and Harry highly suspected that she was a Muggle parent. Who else would blatantly show a magical train ticket to Muggles? One of the conductors caught sight of it and paused for a moment, turning around to speak into a device Ron couldn't distinguish.

"What d'you reckon's that black box he's talking into?" Ron mumbled.

"That's a walkie-talkie," Hermione replied absentmindedly and slightly irritably before Harry had a chance to open his mouth. She was straining her ears to listen in on what the conductor was saying. She couldn't discern anything, though, and before she knew it, he had turned around to face the crowd.

"Is everybody here headed for Platform…9¾?" he asked, a little too nonchalantly for Harry's liking. Something about his tone put him off.

When most of the people nodded, the men dropped their cheerful deportment, and mayhem consumed the playing field with a vengeance. Suddenly people were screaming, trying to get away as the "conductors" called for backup, rounding up as many witches and wizards – actually, they didn't even care if they were magic or Muggle, they took everyone – as they possible could. Harry, Ron and Hermione were near the back, and they tried to run in the opposite direction upon first instinct, only to realise that more "conductors" were racing towards them.

"We're bloody history!" Ron yelped.

"No, we're not! Not if I have anything to say about it! Quick, behind the pillar!" Hermione ordered, ducking out of the way of knocking into one very fat man. "Harry, we need the Invisibility Cloak! Now!"

It was right then that Harry thanked Merlin that he had decided to bring his Cloak. He took it everywhere with him as a precaution, but he was still very relieved.

With much difficulty, seeing as all of them had fully grown, Harry, Ron and Hermione squeezed beneath the Invisibility Cloak. Hermione muttered a spell that made their feet undetectable, if only for a short period of time. They began to run, essentially playing a very rough version of hide-and-seek with Norsefire personnel, who had pulled weapons out to subdue the multitude. They managed to escape the train station, although they refused to remove the Cloak until they were a good few yards away and had ducked into an alley for cover. Panting from the exertion and trying to recover from the immense shock, they slid the watery material off and Hermione mumbled the spell to counteract the concealment charm she had cast on their feet. They stayed there for a moment, catching their breaths.

"We've got to go back," Ron said determinedly. "We've got to find Ginny! And Luna!"

"Ron's right," Harry responded with gritted teeth. Where would these people take them? What would they do to them? Horrible thoughts raced through his mind at the very contemplation. "We've got to."

"No, we _can't_!" Hermione interjected before Ron could agree further. She grabbed onto the collars of her friends' shirts and held them back.

"'Mione, she's my _sister_! She's one of your _best friends_!" Ron yelled at her, spinning around to glare at his girlfriend. "Are you just going to leave her to get captured by these brutes?"

"Tell me, Ronald, exactly _what_ happens when the three of us go back there. Go on, tell me," Hermione's voice had gone dangerously low. "You can't? Then let me spell it out to you. They'll take us too, don't you see? They're in with Norsefire."

"What in the bloody hell are you on about?"

"Open your eyes and look around you, for Merlin's sake!" Hermione nearly shrieked. "Look out the alley and you'll know! The symbols on their badges! It's Norsefire's emblem. You're forgetting, Ronald, that we're in London, the hub of this campaign. They'll catch us, Ron. And then what use would we be to Ginny and Luna? They can't escape, neither can we."

"So you'd rather let them be rounded up like animals, is that it?" Harry asked coldly.

"Harry James Potter, I can't _believe_ you'd even insinuate that!" Hermione was close to tears at that point. She glared daggers at him. "Of _course_ I don't want them in that state! But you've got to be sensible! We're no use to Ginny or Luna when we're locked up with them!"

"So you tell me the alternative. Are we supposed to _fight_ this campaign or something? Are you comparing this with Voldemort?" Harry let out a hollow laugh. He had no idea that it pierced Hermione right in her heart. "Somehow, 'Mione, that just doesn't seem plausible. Not from what you've explained. Right now, I'd trade this for Voldemort."

Hermione nearly ripped her hair out of her scalp in frustration, bawling right then. She was losing her composure. Ron was rubbing her back, trying to calm her down.

"Will you bloody well stop thinking about that? This isn't about _you_ anymore, Harry! And stop living in a damned fantasy world! Voldemort's _gone_ and this is a new war!" she finally burst out, catching both her friends by surprise. She took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, "I can't believe you even have the _audacity_ to question my reasoning when yours is even more unfounded. You're not thinking, are you? Look at the long-term effects, Harry. Don't just act with your brain stuck in your arse! That's always been your bloody problem!"

Harry's eyes flashed madly and he looked about ready to retort with something nasty, when Ron held his hand up to stop him. He'd had enough.

"Look guys," he said in an almost-businesslike tone, "as much as I want to go back in to find Ginny and Luna – I mean it was my big bloody mouth that even suggested that in the first place – I think Hermione's right. Let's just go find a place somewhere and sit down, all right? Maybe we can cool off a bit and we can attack from there."

Nobody had expected Ron to play peacekeeper, but they all agreed on his arrangement anyway. Neither Harry nor Hermione had the strength nor will to fight it out at the moment; they were simply too overwhelmed. Hermione led them out of the alley and down the crowded street, where they slipped into a small roadside café. She ordered for them and sat with her head in her hands, her shoulders still slightly unsteady. She slowly rubbed her temples with her thumbs in the process. Even as the waitress brought back their order of two coffees and a cup of tea, none of them spoke a word. Ron was absently playing with the cream and sugar holder while Harry drummed his fingers on the smooth wood of the table, reading a menu that had been placed on the wall behind Hermione.

"'Mione…" he said after awhile, his voice sounding terribly apologetic.

"It's okay, Harry," she replied, although the intonation of her voice suggested that she was still brooding over it. "Just…don't bring it up again, all right?"

She wouldn't even look at him when she talked. It honestly gripped at Harry's feelings, but he didn't say anything about it. Ron had shut up entirely, seemingly ignoring the both of them.

That was the way it was as they drank their fill, occasionally glancing around them at the people that went in and out of the café. Hermione opened her bag and began shifting things in it, and it sounded as though somebody was moving heavy cargo in there. She finally found what she was looking for: a hardcover book that had the words "The Nature of Fascism (Themes in Right-wing Politics & Ideology)" splashed across the front. She leaned back in her seat and quietly read to herself, with Harry and Ron in bemusement.

* * *

Hermione saw it pointless to even try to get to Hogwarts and just let the morning pass her by. After all, it wasn't as though there would be people there. How would the teachers conduct lessons anyway? Surely they knew about the ambush at the train station.

"Well, some people Apparate to Hogsmeade, then walk to the castle, I suppose. You could do that," Ron suggested as they left the café at ten past twelve. They had stayed there for a long time while she read a few chapters of her book.

"All the same, I think I'll forego Hogwarts and N.E.W.T.s for another year," Hermione replied. "I'd very much like to focus on finding Ginny and Luna. Believe it or not, I'm still a person with feelings."

The very mention of his sister stiffened Ron's shoulder. However, he tried to hide it. Harry remained silent, although it was clear that he was thinking the same thing Ron was. Hermione still wasn't speaking to him properly and it painfully reminded him of his first year when they simply just weren't friends. However, that last bit of speech annoyed him too. He wasn't blaming her on purpose and yet she still felt the need to make it seem that way. Still, he knew that saying anything offensive would just completely destroy everything once again and he would be stuck with Ron, trying to find a way to speak to their tough cookie of a best friend.

"But your parents…"

"I _know_ what my parents want, Ron," Hermione said resolutely. "But running and hiding won't solve anything."

Her words were soaked in irrevocability and Ron chose not to argue. Instead, he turned his attention to Harry.

"Just apologise to her, mate," he whispered as the two lagged behind. Hermione had wandered into a bookstore and was looking at titles such as "A History of Fascism" and "Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany: The Fascist Style of Rule".

"She won't even let me, damn it!" Harry grumbled, rocking back and forth on the balls and tips of his feet. "If she wasn't so bloody stubborn, I'd've said sorry right at the café."

"This is _Hermione_ we're talking about! She'll come through, but you've still got to make the first move and _apologise_. I've learnt the hard way not doing that from the start," Ron shrugged, looking through a few Muggle comic books with names that fascinated him; "Superman" and "Spiderman" were among the lot.

Harry still didn't think Ron "learning the hard way" was good enough reason for him to give him advice; therefore, he chose not to respond. Instead he said, "I have to send a message to Kingsley to tell him I can't go back to work just yet. I have a feeling this is yet another _adventure_," he said bitterly.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, mate. It's not your fault," Ron patted him on the back.

"Ready to leave?" Hermione had suddenly come up behind them, a pile of books in hand. "Are you buying that, Ron?" she pointed to the issue of Wonder Woman he had in his hand, smirking slightly. He blushed scarlet and practically tossed the copy back onto the rack. Hermione smiled more broadly, "Didn't think so."

They paid for her tomes and stepped out on the street again. Harry whispered to her that he needed to send something to Kingsley and Hermione merely nodded in reply. She was being less cold to him already, however her behaviour was still disconcerting. Together with Ron, she followed Harry him down another alley and once the coast was clear, he Conjured his stag Patronus and gave it a message to relay to Kingsley.

"Now that's done, do you two want to go home?" Hermione asked. "I'll need some time to do some research on the right-wing movement before I can understand it…"

"I doubt going home will make us feel any better," Harry admitted, thinking of the reaction Mrs Weasley would have when she found out that her youngest child had gone missing. "We'll stay at the Leaky Cauldron; it's right here in London. Makes for easy access of the place."

They made their way to the pub on Charing Cross Road, renting rooms. Tom the innkeeper had asked them several times how long they wished to stay, but nobody could give him an actual date for they truly had no idea how long it would take to locate Ginny and Luna. Tom was very kind to them, offering to let them stay as long as they like.

However, Hermione thought otherwise. "We'll give it two weeks," she spoke up. She then lowered her voice to a murmur as she turned to Harry and Ron, "We can't really ask for anything more. Keeping Tom from renting out even two rooms costs him business. We can always extend our stay if necessary."

They nodded in response and split the cost of the rooms, paying up front. Harry was happy that they'd picked the Leaky Cauldron as their lodge for he seriously needed to head to Gringotts to refill his money bag anyway; it was partly the reason he suggested the place. The three friends made a short trip to Diagon Alley, and they even stopped at Eeylops Owl Emporium to pick out an owl for Hermione, although she had grown reluctant of owning one.

"I highly doubt I can carry her around," she said doubtfully, admiring the beautiful tawny owl in a cage outside the shop. "We might be moving around a lot, you know…"

"But you said you wanted an owl!" Ron cried out indignantly. "Please don't tell me we've made this trip here for nothing."

"Yes, I know I said that Ronald. But think about it _sensibly_."

_There she goes again,_ Harry thought amusedly. Hermione was always playing Queen Rational.

She did indeed decline to buy the owl, but it didn't stop the three of them from wandering around the rest of Diagon Alley. They stopped for ice creams at the new shop that replaced Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour before the boys went off to Quality Quidditch Supplies while Hermione busied herself at Flourish and Blotts – although none of them could enter either shop as they were eating. It honestly felt good to return to Diagon Alley, and yet it also felt a bit sad. No longer did Harry have to stop by Madam Malkin's to get his school robes refitted in light of his growth spurts, nor did he have to buy new (and sometimes dangerous) textbooks to prepare for a year at Hogwarts. Even visiting the smelly Apothecary was a bit welcoming as it was where he went to replenish his potion ingredient supplies. Harry didn't tell this to his friends, but he'd been unable to actually properly look at Eeylops, as in the window was the display of beautiful snowy owls that reminded him too much of Hedwig…

"Harry, are you done eating? I want to go in," Ron interrupted his thoughts.

The two boys spent awhile catching up on the comings and goings in the Quidditch world with the store clerk in Quality Quidditch Supplies, then met Hermione outside. They went to visit George at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.

"Where have _you_ been all day?" George asked Ron, shaking his head with a cheeky look on his face. All four of them retreated to his back office. "You _are_ still working for me, right? And Granger, I thought you were on your way back to Hogwarts. Why the sudden change of mind?"

"_With_ you, not _for_ you!" Ron defended himself, causing everybody to snicker at his childish acrimony. "Haven't you heard by now? People were intercepted between Platforms 9 and 10. People were being abducted and…"

All laughter stopped at once.

"What?!" George dropped several Skiving Snackboxes in shock. "Have you told Mum and Dad? Where's Ginny?!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione continued to be silent. Their shuffling and nervous tugging of sleeves spoke more than enough.

"Maybe visiting wasn't such a good idea," Hermione whispered to Harry, who nodded as George collapsed into a seat. He stared at them good and proper, each of their relatively guilty faces. He seemed to try to decide if they were just pulling a terrible joke on him or not. When the truth finally sunk in, he buried his face in his hands.

"Look," he started, running his fingers through his red hair, "I know none of you could've prevented them from taking her, so I hope I don't make it seem like I'm pinning all the blame on you. I just... I _can't_ lose another sibling, okay? And Mum and Dad sure as hell can't go without another kid."

"Don't worry, we're _not_ just letting this happen and not do anything about it," Harry said, feeling a pang of sadness hit him as he remembered Fred. Realising how pompous he must've sounded though, he corrected himself, "I don't mean to sound like I'm trying to be a hero here, but I've saved Ginny once, didn't I? And I fought Voldemort and got rid of him. Who's to say I can't do all that again? It's not as if I've gone rusty…"

"Are you barking mad, Harry? These blokes sound pretty dangerous!" George looked shocked that Harry even suggested going off on his own to find his friends.

Hermione sensed that Harry was just feeling even more guilt than he'd previously dared to show, and therefore wanted to make up for it. However she shook her head and wrapped her hands around Harry's arm, gripping him tightly, all the same. She didn't like the way he was talking. All this fake confidence sounded a lot more like a death wish to her, not some heroic creed.

"You're not Superman, Harry," she assured him gently. She heard George question Ron about who Superman was, but tuned out the rest of their quiet conversation. "But, you've got to know that this isn't even playing with fire anymore. It's sticking yourself in the entire oven-"

"I know that, 'Mione…"

"No, you _don't_," she said firmly. "Harry, whatever this is, it isn't as though we can wave our wands and make it go away. This new provisional government is dangerous and I fear…even more so than Voldemort ever was. They may have similarities in regimes, but Voldemort wasn't cunning. _Yes_, he was a Slytherin and knew enough stealth to rise to power, but he wasn't cunning _enough_. You don't know the real wrath of Muggles, Harry. In fact, I fear that you underestimate them. You don't know how they think and how they can be twisted and cruel. They can be more treacherous and terrible than you could _ever_ imagine any wizard to be."

Harry said nothing in response, instead choosing to mull over her words, letting them wash over him like a cold bucket of water had been dumped over his head.

* * *

**A/N:** Like I said before, this story is a mixture of media I've collated, which is why I've used the movie version of Norsefire's symbol instead of the graphic novel version; it stands out more. The book names I've provided in the story are all references to real books that have been published before the timeframe the story is set in. As always, your feedback is very much loved and appreciated and I'll be forever grateful if you could review :) Thanks for reading!


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